Daring Greatly…maybe not my thing? or maybe it is! #BHBC #spon Review

I had a hard time with Daring Greatly… the newest in the BlogHer Book Club. When I requested to be part of the review team for it, I totally thought–easy peasy! I love this type of book. Brene Brown is my kind of woman.

Then came a tough month. Boy went to college. We got a new puppy. Actually, this is my FIRST puppy ever–I’ve always started with dogs before. I’ve been reading tons of dog training information because of this new family member. Nothing like dog training books (which like parenting books, all seem to contradict each other) to make you feel shamed for every misstep. Dog pulling on the leash? Your fault because you didn’t do it this way from the beginning! (of course another book says you should do it THIS way instead) Buy this leash! That leash! Do these things every day. Never. Always. SHAME ON YOU. Add a lack of sleep and you have vulnerability on tap.

Then the trip to see girlchild in her big girl apartment in a city I’ve never been in. (taking the puppy–so essentially traveling with a dog on a trip somewhere other than to see family at a house where I could just let the pooch out into their house/their yard and be done with the fuss.) Ugh. Then just before leaving, and worsening while I was there–toothache. Really horrible monster toothache. I toughed it out with over the counter pain relievers and copious quantities of toothache gels/liquids. (to the point where I mistakenly googled what happens when you OD on that sort of thing–it’s bad and not really that hard. eek! Who knew?) I ended up finding a new dentist when I got home.

The one we’ve been seeing here is nice and efficient but big into the shaming and her office is like a dental version of Supercuts–5 or 6 chairs lined up, minimal dividers, you can see everyone prone in their chairs getting worked on. I don’t know about you but being on my back with sharp things about definitely leads to vulnerable anyway. With twelve or more people about–just ugh.

So, I was in serious pain and found a new dentist. Vulnerable/shame/ugh on tap. I didn’t have a choice. Really “dead from tooth abscess” didn’t seem the thing I wanted people to be chatting about (and it does happen unfortunately). The dentist’s paperwork asked about what I’ve liked and not liked about past dental office. I actually dared greatly a bit because of the book and said that I don’t like the shaming and yelling that has happened at past dental offices. I worry about the cost. I worry about not understanding options and having no control really–but it is the shaming (soda? coffee? floss every single day multiple times? flouride rinse? mouthwash? never missing a cleaning? controlling my Crohn’s so it doesn’t destroy bone?) that leads me to avoid the dentist almost as much as the money issue. The dentist and staff haven’t mentioned what I said on the paperwork but they have been super kind even through oral surgery yesterday. (If anything in this post makes no sense, blame the fact that I am still super woozy and in pain.)

In any case, Daring Greatly was a hard read for me but a good one. I saw ways in which I hate feeling vulnerable and the associated feelings keep me from doing my best for myself, for my job, for my love, for my children. It is a hard book to read in one gulp–at least for me–but I will be revisiting it often. The section on parenting is great and so is the section on…oh wait…if you have a life? a job? a love life? children? no children? pet? ANYTHING? There is something applicable.

Put yourself out there, pick up the book and give it a try. I encourage you to also check out the discussions happening over the next few weeks at BlogHer related to the book. The book is ripe for the sort of great discussions that even without reading the book yet, you can get a lot out of participating.

This is a paid review for BlogHer Book Club but the opinions expressed are my own.

 

Where she went

Where she went is the newest BlogHer Book club book and it is YA! If you are a YA fan, then keep reading. If you are one of those “only read grown up book” sorts…skip today!

That said, if you love music or the power of music, you will enjoy this story. It’s a simple love story with requisite orphaned girl, angst ridden musicians and more.

It is the sequel to “if I stay” which is not really required reading before this one. I liked this one better though.

This is a paid review for BlogHer Book Club but the opinions expressed are my own.

Diary of a Mad Fat Girl

I confess, I picked Diary of a Mad Fat Girl up off the “New” shelf at the library. The title rang a bell. I wasn’t sure which one. SOMEONE giggled. That someone underestimated my love for things southern. Or she should have read the book. You should too. Unless…

Unless what? This book isn’t for you if you must read “serious literary fiction.” This book isn’t for you if you turn pale reading slang and the occasional cuss word. This book isn’t for you if you have never made a mistake or been hard-headed in your life. This book isn’t for you if you hate food and the South. This book is especially not for you if you never have tried to fix someone else’s life. (while your own life isn’t a shining example of perfection.)

Oh wait, you do like a light read with real people? (of course you do! You read my blog!) You aren’t squeamish? You need to head to Bugtussle in Diary of a Mad Fat Girl then. It’s the perfect book for an airplane, a beach, for lifting you up after a long day at work. Grab yourself some sweet tea and this book! It’ll make you laugh. It’ll make you cringe. It will make you wish you had friends half as interesting or glad your friends aren’t quite THAT interesting. Ace, Chloe, Lilly, Mason, Ethan Allen, and the amazing Gloria Peacock all make for a unforgettable group of friends and stories.

I hope for a follow up soon. Plenty of stories wait to be told about Bugtussle! I am sure I can see all of Ace’s friends and neighbors sitting, telling their stories down at Ethan Allen’s bar.

 

This is a paid review for BlogHer Book Club, but the opinions expressed are my own.

The Weird Sisters-Not So Weird-Maybe a Little

I didn’t want to read The Weird Sisters. I know, I asked for the review. It came and I glanced at the back and put it away. It didn’t call to me. I drug my heels. I finally decided that I had BETTER read it because the review was coming due.

I picked it up and within pages I was hooked. Actually page 7 marked the point when I knew it was a keeper.

Cordy had thus far refused to grow up, and we’d indulged that in the same way we’d indulged every other whim she’d had for nearly her entire life. After all, we could hardly blame her. We were fairly certain that if anyone made public the various and variegated ways in which being an adult sucked eggs, more people might opt out entirely.

That struck me just because a friend of mine and I had been talking about that very thing earlier in the day.

Then there are the sisters themselves. I am a middle daughter or an oldest daughter depending on who you want to consult. My older sister is 13 years older than I am. My younger sister is three years younger. Our blended family has four girls and two boys. (G, B, G, B, G, G) I know sisters and sister relationships. These are complicated, crazy, wonderful, and horrible. In The Weird Sisters, the same holds true.

I’ve inhaled enough Shakespeare over the years to not be thrown by the pure Shakespeare-ness of the book, but I do have to warn you that you might want to have a passing familiarity with the major works in order to not have to stop and look something up. (and you may still want to stop to ponder or re-read or something even if you know Shakespeare. Of course, that is always the way with him.) There were points where it did bug me that they would quote Shakespeare instead of spitting something out.

I also loved the family who reads, the girls parading to the library with their wagons to be filled with books. I read like that. I’ve been known to peer at people suspiciously when they say they don’t have time to read.

Then there is the omniscient first person plural narration. That’s just plain…weird. On the other hand, I think it helped in that it kept me safely away from falling into being one of the three sisters. It gave you the point of view of an audience at the theater perhaps.

In any case, I fell in love with the sisters, the family, and the book. Read it. Don’t drag your feet like I did.

This is a paid review for BlogHer Book Club but the opinions expressed are (very, very, very much) my own.